


If a Tree Falls

by turps



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-03
Updated: 2011-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 01:59:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Mikey centric gen ficlet, where Mikey's band show how they care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If a Tree Falls

Mikey’s thoughts skitter, twisting around on themselves until he can’t distinguish the end of one from the beginning of another. Sometimes music helps, but today nothing seems right, and he scrolls through his playlists, moving on within the first few bars of each song. He crawls into his bunk, lies curled on his side and stares into nothing, and the thoughts become faster, jagged, slipping away when he tries to harness only one. He pushes his face against his pillow, breathes deep and his skin feels too tight, pulled taut over his bones and he tries to stretch, fingers pressed against the wall, the roof.

He needs air and crawls back out, standing between the bunks, trying to focus on a conversation, an idea, but his mind is nothing but static noise, a jumble of thoughts that bump and clash and if he could he’d get off this bus and never stop running.

“Mikey.”

Mikey looks up, sees Frank gathering popcorn and chips before throwing the bags toward the front of the bus. It’s like watching feeding time at the zoo as Gerard pounces and Ray leaps and Bob just pushes them both aside to claim his pick.

“Fucking savages,” Frank says, affection obvious as he reaches out his hand and hooks his fingers around Mikey’s belt. “Come and watch the movie with us.”

“I’m. No,” Mikey says, all too aware of how his skin itches, how there’s so much inside that’s pressing out. He crosses his arms, puts up his shields and tries to become small, but Frank is tugging now – insistent.

“Come on, Mikeyway.”

Mikey thinks about pulling away, but there’s nowhere to go. He allows Frank to tug him forward.

“Mikey! I’ve got us popcorn,” Gerard says and holds up a bag.

Mikey eyes the space between Gerard and Ray, it’s only a few inches wide and he’s about to fold himself to the floor when Ray sighs and says, “come here, already.”

In a lightening move, he grabs Mikey’s arm and pulls. Somehow Mikey magically fits into that tiny space. His back curled against Gerard’s side, his knees resting on Ray’s thighs. Then Bob reaches over Ray, and all Mikey can do is blink when he feels fingers wrap around his ankles, and Bob’s scowling as he settles Mikey’s feet on his lap, as if daring anyone to say a word.

No one does.

“Ready?” Frank asks, and presses play before anyone says yes. He sits then, back against the couch, settled between Gerard and Ray’s legs. He tips his head back, smiles at Mikey and says, softly, “hey.”

Mikey flashes a small smile in return then slumps back until his head is cradled against Gerard's shoulder. He lies still, the movie nothing but indistinct colour and words. His thoughts still jumbled, still scratching at his nerves like rusty nails, but if Mikey concentrates there are points of focus in all that noise.

Bob’s hands, strong and warm, rubbing along the instep of Mikey’s foot.

Ray’s arm, secure and solid, resting against Mikey’s back.

Gerard’s hair, tickling as he turns and shoves another piece of popcorn in Mikey’s mouth.

Frank’s smile, as bright as the sun as he keeps looking back, casually resting his head against Mikey’s thigh.

To Mikey, all four are quiet.


End file.
